


cover my eyes but don't cover my truths

by Iteunmul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Demons, Halloween, Kim Bros, M/M, Mean Parents, Rituals, Witches, not really sulay at all tbh but it's hinted I guess, the demon is non-binary bc im not abt to restrict them w gender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iteunmul/pseuds/Iteunmul
Summary: Junmyeon's wish goes against the Kim Family Tradition.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	cover my eyes but don't cover my truths

“We’re here!” Jongdae exclaims loudly, ready to pop the car door open even though the driver is still pulling up on the long gravel driveway. Five more minutes, basically just a handful of measly seconds left before they can all get out and stretch. _“Finally.”_

Junmyeon leans against the window, glancing out to see what the manor has to offer. Night has already fallen though, so he can’t see much. It’s been a long time since their family has visited. The last time being Minseok’s ritual, and Junmyeon wonders if it’s been untouched since then. 

The manor is dusty, and poorly maintained in areas visitors aren’t to be expected. But it reeks of character and a comfort Junmyeon so deeply craves. Memories of running around with his brothers, barefoot on the grass. 

Now it was just a polished exterior with a dirty interior. 

Just like their parents.

“I call the east wing,” Jongin pipes up, previously immersed in some old book, it looks awfully familiar and Junmyeon’s sure it’s from their Father’s study. He must’ve taken it without permission, considering how they’re not even allowed to step foot in there. 

“No,” Jongdae glares at him pointedly, “That’s my wing.” 

Jongdae is sitting beside Junmyeon, while Minseok and Jongin sit facing them on the other seats. 

_“No,”_ Jongin gingerly snaps the book shut. Junmyeon watches as he places it carefully in his lap. It’s definitely stolen from the study. Dammit. At Least after all this sneaking it back in there will be easier. If everything goes as plans. “You get the _west_ wing” 

“Definitely not! The east wing overlooks the gardens, I like to see roses in the morning you know that!” 

“You _what?”_ Jongin asks incredulously, “You just fancy the girl next door!” 

“Pardon me?” Junmyeon blinks, pushing his way into the conversation. “You want the East Wing so you can spy?” 

“What— no! That’s not it!” Jongdae sputters, but he’s glaring at Jongin with sharp eyeliner outlined eyes and he’s flushing red. Which means it’s right. “I really do like the gardens—“ 

“And the person who walks in them,” Jongin bites back, a teasing grin on his face. 

“Oi you brat—“ 

“She uses our gardens?” Junmyeon frowns, “Mother better not find that out.” 

He can imagine it already. A hissy fit, ending with a slap to Minseok’s right cheek and their Father breathing down their necks. _‘We’re the Kim’s,’_ He would say in that awfully condensing tone of his, _‘Reputation comes first.’_ Then he’d take a good look at the four of them, and scoff. Call them useless brats and dismiss them without any thought. The only use they had, according to their Father, was to fulfill the destiny of their family through the Ritual. 

“She can use our gardens Junmyeon,” Jongdae replies immediately, “It’s not like we come here anymore.” 

“Yeah, but she already hates that family. So if Mother finds out what will she think?” Jongin muses, but it’s tinged with worry. Junmyeon hates how Jongin feels so fearful of her. 

“She hates any family that’s not her own,” Junmyeon mumbles, feeling a headache creeping in behind his eyes. 

“And even we’re on thin ice,” Jongin scowls, probably reminiscing one of the many times she neglected or ignored them. 

“Oh who gives a fuck about what Mother thinks,” Jongdae hisses, slouching back into the leather seat of the car. 

“Jongdae.” Minseok finally speaks up, his eyes still trained on the newspaper laid out in front of him. It’s not a reprimanding call of his name, just reminding. 

“I’m not wrong,” Jongdae says fiercely, his eyes shining with anger. “You know I’m not—” 

Minseok looks up, meeting Jongdae’s eyes in deadly silence. It’s only out of respect that Jongdae actually stops what would’ve been a destructive tirade. They all respect Minseok beyond anything imaginable, he had practically raised them at this point. 

“Sorry Minseok,” Jongdae mumbles out, but he’s looking at Junmyeon with eyes that say _I’m right,_ and _we were all thinking it anyways._

“There’s no use thinking about it now,” Junmyeon pats his knee sympathetically, offering a smile for comfort. It works, because Jongdae lifts his head off the edge of the windowpane in favour of Junmyeon’s shoulder. “It won’t be very long until we’re out of their hair.” 

“Until we all do our rituals,” Jongin sighs, “It’ll be so bothersome by then.”

“You wouldn’t know that,” Jongdae points out, “Minseok’s the only one who completed it.” 

“We’re not staying here for that long anyways,” Junmyeon points out, playing with the hem of his shirt. On his index finger, just like all the other Kim Brother’s, is a heavy silver ring stamped with their family crest. Junmyeon hates the prestige of it all, even if he enjoys the wealth. 

Junmyeon ignores the nervous flutter in his stomach that occurred every time he looked at the ring in favour of twisting his shirt. Jongdae reaches out, stilling the movement with his fingers. 

“Exactly,” Minseok nods, folding the paper in half. “Just the night after Junmyeon’s ritual, and then we leave in the morning.” 

The ritual, the reason for Junmyeon’s ceaseless anxiety, was no joke. 

It was like a coming-of-age ceremony for all witches. Something that varied from family to family, based on various things like background, and influence. Junmyeon was lucky enough to have come from a powerful family, or so people said. What Junmyeon thought, what Minseok thought, and even what Jongdae and Jongin thought mattered little to the prying eyes who were jealous of their family. 

A jealousy their parents preen in. 

“So short,” Jongin mumbles a little sadly. They were all basically kids when they had last come, and the fond memories of summers without their parents are starting to fade away. 

Their ritual was simple enough anyways. Draw the overcomplicated sigil, summon their family demon, and make a wish. 

“You two can share the East Wing,” Minseok offers, dropping the papers on his lap with a smile. He’s looking at Junmyeon, and he looks a little sad too. 

Now the twist in stomach is directed at his parents. It has everything to do with the nervousness and especially his wish. 

“Fine with me,” Jongin shrugs, unbuckling his seatbelt as the driver pulls to a stop. 

Their parents had made it clear. Wish for wealth, a powerful family legacy. It was what Minseok did, as well as his Father, and his father and the list extended on and on. 

“Jongdae?” Minseok presses when Jongdae evades eye contact. 

_Don’t wish for trivial things_ , his Mother had scowled the night before the left. She was already at the manor by now. _Family first, she had said, as if she were a good Mother._

“...Fine,” Jongdae huffs, but he doesn’t sound annoyed at all. They’re all weak to Jongin in their own ways. 

_It’s the Kim Family Tradition,_ Minseok had sighed bitterly in the darkness of the night when Junmyeon had crawled into his bed out of nervousness. His ritual was just as cold and cruel as Junmyeon’s is supposed to be. Filled with neglectful parents and their wishes shoved onto their kids. 

The driver pulls to a stop, to the side of the roundabout before the entrance of the manor. 

_“Now_ we’re finally here,” Jongin says with a grin, pushing the door open. 

“Up you get,” Junmyeon nudges Jongdae off of him, clambering out after Jongin. 

He bumps into Jongin when he slips out of the car. The youngest Kim stands there, jaw locked and eyes dark. 

“What is it?” Junmyeon murmurs, a touch concerned when he follows Jongin's gaze to where he’s looking. 

Their Mother is standing at the door, arms crossed and frowning like always. 

“She’s waiting for Junmyeon,” Minseok says, his fingers curled around Jongin’s arm. It’s a silent warning for Jongin to cool down before saying anything reckless, anything that would make him considered a risk for the family. 

“You and Jongdae can wait in the car,” Junmyeon says, worrying at his lip for a few seconds. “Minseok and I can deal with her.” 

“Works for me,” Jongdae says, his eyes downcast towards his feet. The coil of anger that constantly simmers beneath Junmyeon’s skin tightens. This, the ill treatment they all receive from just existing, can’t go on for much longer. Jongdae or Jongin will surely snap and that will lead to a tragic set of events that’ll have them all separated. “We’ll still see you before, right?” 

“Of course you will,” Minseok assures him, but it really depends on if their Mother is in a good enough mood or not. “It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t.” 

Rituals could go badly, Junmyeon had heard. Misaligned intentions, or not being fully capable to handle the rush of energy and just like that. Another witch disappearing into literal dust. Incinerated by heat, or sometimes the demons themselves got too annoyed, or too bloodthirsty. 

Junmyeon won’t fail. 

He can’t. 

“Let’s go,” is all Junmyeon says to Minseok, already starting to walk towards his Mother. Even as they climb up the stairs she offers no smile nor a greeting. Just stares at the two eldest children with a cold look in her eyes and a cigarette in between her slim fingers. 

“Hello Mother,” Minseok says first, politely but not heartfelt. 

“Mother,” Junmyeon nods in greeting, ignoring how tense he feels from her presence alone. 

“You’re late,” She frowns, “Night has already fallen.”

“It starts at midnight,” Minseok reminds her calmly. “I’ll have him ready in no time.” 

“Good.” She whirls around, not even bothering them to beckon them into the manor. They follow her anyways. “I assume you know what to do.” Junmyeon’s Mother says to him, the point of her heels clicking with every step taken on the dark wooden floor. 

She’s a beautiful lady, even every exhale of smoke seems to be a graceful, mesmerizing gesture. But with every inhale of her cigarette a faint red rim is imprinted on it, which Junmyeon stares at in disgust. He continues to do so as she taps the ash on the floor without a care. 

Spoiled is what Junmyeon would say she is. Thinking in a way a son shouldn’t, but it’s justified because she never did act like a Mother. 

Regardless, just because they only use this manor when the occasion demands for it, doesn’t mean she should trash it. It may not be their swanky, over-the-top apartment in the city but it feels more like home to all her sons. 

“Yes Mother,” Junmyeon answers stiffly, following her obediently.

“Junmyeon’s been practising very hard,” Minseok supplies, ever the dutiful older brother. Desperate to shine a positive light to someone whose opinions were already strongly biased. 

“It’d be an utter disgrace to your Father and I if you failed.” She leads them up the stairs. “We don’t want to resort to extreme methods in case you do.” 

Minseok winces in response. They’re all too familiar with the methods their Mother favours over words to teach them. “Will Father be joining us?” 

“No,” The scowl is evident in her voice. “He’s a busy man.” She’s pissed off that he didn’t even bother to take time off work to attend. Or that she has to deal with this hassle all alone. It’s not like it’s the seventh son’s ritual, it’s only the second. 

She stops when they reach a door with a matching golden doorknob to the others in the house. They’ve reached Junmyeon’s old room from when they were sent here to study. Do well. Prosper, not play. 

“You’ve memorized the wish I presume.” She asks him, looking at him with no emotion other than contempt. It’s no secret that she loathes the very children who rid her of her youth, that much was evident by the way she looked at them. Cold, like objects, and money-making machines who were to continue the family’s lavish lifestyle through the ritual.

“I wish to preserve the Kim Legacy, and provide wealth for future generations to come.” Junmyeon recites like it’s on the back of his hand.

“Good,” She pats his face with cold hands and a colder smile. Junmyeon knows the smile isn’t her pride in his continuous studying so he won’t fail the ritual. It’s because her sons are the key for her preferred lifestyle to maintain as is. The smile is caused by her dreaming of the money Junmyeon’s ritual will bring in. Minseok’s brought a fortune that could last lifetimes. That multiplied by four? Unimaginable but attainable, thanks to the brothers. “You can’t fail.” 

You, Junmyeon notes in the back of his head. Not we, which would be more accurate. He does them both a favour by not returning a smile. 

If she took two seconds to stop caring about only her own wellbeing, she would see the look on Junmyeon’s face. Cold, almost cruel. Not the way a son should look at their Mother, and yet all her sons look at her in that way. 

“Just follow the tradition, Junmyeon.” Are the parting words she chooses, she twists the handle and pushes the door open. “Your brothers will come to collect you in a few minutes.” 

Junmyeon doesn’t even tell her bye. He just steps into his room, frowning at its unkempt state. Dust everywhere, darkening corners and coating everything he can see. He swipes a hand across the dust on his desk, leaving three darker marks behind. 

“It’s filthy in here,” Minseok says from behind Junmyeon, disgust evident in his voice

“Agreed,” Junmyeon eyes the clothes the servants laid out on the bed. His garments for tonight. “Do you think they’re safe to wear?” 

“I hope so,” Minseok replies, a little disgruntled by the notion that Junmyeon has to wear something that’s lying on a bed so steep with dust. “But as unkempt as it is...I will admit I do miss coming here.” 

“Me too,” Junmyeon admits, joining Minseok at the curtains. He looks towards the front lawn of the manor, watching as Jongin runs around waving some light so they can see despite the dark purple hue of the sky. They’re probably marvelling in the fresh air which is so unlike the city. Jongdae is close behind him too, always keeping an eye out for his brother. “Jongdae and Jongin would enjoy it immensely.” 

“They really would,” Minseok bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating. “We could try coming back here during Summers, no? It’d be a nice break from… you know. We could devise some sort of plan, right? Something about tutoring them here, more space for… I don’t know.” 

“More space to practice spells,” Junmyeon nods, “Brew some potions, maybe Jongin can even find his familiar out here.” _We shouldn’t need the plan,_ is what Junmyeon wants to say, but he doesn’t. _Not if they were proper parents._

“Well I’ll start thinking of that then, on the other hand,” Minseok looks at Junmyeon, and then eyes the clothes on the dusty bed in disgust again. “You better put those on.” 

“Alright, alright,” Junmyeon walks over to the bed, and grabs the clothes. Dust flies up from the motion, little flecks scattering in the air, on Junmyeon himself, before finally settling to the floor.

“They could have cleaned it at the least,” Minseok mutters, closing the curtains halfway. No eyes can peek in, but they can look out.

“We’re not staying here for long anyways,” Junmyeon sighs, shucking off his pants and pulling on the flowy ones from the bed. “Just a little bit after the Ritual. I’m assuming we get the East Wing?” 

“Nice morning view of the gardens,” Minseok chuckles quietly, his back faced away from Junmyeon. Ever polite. 

“Minseok,” Junmyeon pauses, buttoning his shirt deftly. It’s also made from a looser material, shimmery to look at and soft to touch. “We have to warn that girl to not walk in the gardens, Mother really will kill her.” There are slits in the sleeves, and pretty frills all around his neck. It makes Junmyeon feel like a witch, like the clothes are an extension of his powers. “I’m finished by the way.” 

“I’ve already sent a maid to take care of it,” Minseok turns around, eyeing Junmyeon up and down in approval. He’s probably feeling sentimental that it’s Junmyeon’s turn, sentimental but sad. The Ritual means Junmyeon’s all grown up in the eyes of the law, and their parents. “You all set?” 

“Nearly,” Junmyeon picks up the gold chain that needs to be fastened from one side of his shirt collar to the other. 

Minseok walks over, already knowing what Junmyeon needs help with. It’s silent between them for a bit as Minseok adjusts the frills of Junmyeon’s collar and pins the two thin gold strands across it. 

“Junmyeon?” 

“Yes, Minseok?” 

“Are you worried?” Minseok asks seriously, “You don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready.” 

“I’m ready,” Junmyeon says seriously. 

“Are you sure?” Of course Minseok is worried, if it goes wrong this could be the last time he sees Junmyeon. Junmyeon could die from too much energy, or maybe the family demon will kill Junmyeon off out of fun sport. Junmyeon wouldn’t mind that he supposes. 

“Minseok—” 

“Don’t say that just because Mother said all that crap. This isn’t something you rush, you know I’ll get you out of here—” 

“I’m going to be fine,” Junmyeon says firmly, a hand on Minseok’s arm to ground him. “I’ve practised, I know what I’m doing like I was born to do it,” Technically speaking he was born to do it. “So please don’t panic.” 

“I’m going to panic anyways,” Minseok grumbles, but he pats Junmyeon’s hand gently. “I can’t help but worry.” 

“That’s how we all were with you,” Junmyeon reminds him, nearly rolling his eyes. “I promise, it’ll be fine.” 

“...if you say so,” Minseok sighs. 

“Were you nervous when you did it?”

“It’s standard procedure,” Minseok replies and Junmyeon can tell he’s trying to reassure himself in the process, “You draw the crest, you say the summons, and they show up. Unless you mess up. I was fortunate enough to have passed.”

“You’ve met them before, the demon,” Junmyeon clarifies when Minseok wrinkles his brow. What are they like? ” Junmyeon has more than an inkling of an idea. Powerful, clothed in darkness and dripping with shadows. He pictures red eyes and sharp teeth, something that’s a cross of witty and contained savagery. His imagination likes to run wild with the possibilities. 

“Powerful,” Minseok replies bluntly, “...and quite strange to be honest.” 

“Strange?” Junmyeon questions back, bordering amused. 

“They seemed...disappointed to be honest. By my wish.” Minseok swallows, “I thought it was a test to make me wish for something more interesting.” 

“Tricky,” Junmyeon murmurs, unsure of what to make of it. 

“Like I said, it’s standard procedure.” Minseok shrugs, “If the wish is clear in your mind you won’t fall for it.” 

“What’d you wish for?” Junmyeon whispers, searching Minseok’s eyes for the barest hint of a lie. 

“What I was told to,” Minseok answers truthfully, buta colder look slides over his expression, making the distaste in his parents clear. “Prosperity for current and future generations.” 

“Minseok,” Junmyeon pauses, deliberating his words. “I can’t believe it’s already my turn. And now I actually have to do this...” 

“Imagine how I feel,” Minseok snorts, just as there’s a knock on the door. 

“That’s my cue,” Junmyeon breathes out, his chest tightening at how fast it came. How fast it’ll be. 

“Junmyeon,” Minseok purses his lips, a last warning maybe, whatever it is he’s not going to say a prayer. “Whatever you do, just don’t think too much.” 

“Right,” Junmyeon answers slowly, “Easy enough. Like you said, it’s standard procedure.”

“There you go,” Minseok pats his shoulder comfortingly, now let’s go to the ritual chambers. 

He does get to see his brothers before he enters the ritual chambers. A quick kiss pressed to their cheeks is all he can afford before he’s shoved into a dark room, the door shut and locked behind him. In front of him is a table, set with two pieces of chalk and lit by a singular candle. That’s all Junmyeon gets. 

He gets to work immediately, picking up the chalk and getting on his knees down to the floor. This is the hardest part, Junmyeon supposes. To draw their family crest perfectly in the dim lighting.

Junmyeon finishes the last sweeping motion slowly, making sure all the ends of his drawing are met. Lines of red and white streak the floor, crisp and precise because Junmyeon _knows_ , what he’s doing. He can’t fail, he’s destined not to. 

Now for the summons. The words are heavy on his tongue, it’s not the language he would choose to speak but it’s the ancient language required. Junmyeon doesn’t know if it’s a song or a chant, but the words rhyme and flow out of his mouth, hanging in the air and absorbing the silence until Junmyeon finishes with a dry mouth and sweaty hands. 

Just like, ironically enough, _magic_ dark shadows start to spew out of the crest, some sort of smoke as well. The floor cracks into shards and Junmyeon is forced to sit down as the room is clouded. A bright light spews out and Junmyeon closes his eyes. He must have stayed still for minutes until a voice speaks out, low and smooth. 

“I must say, your kin never fails to impress me.” 

Junmyeon opens his eyes, met by their family demon slowly circling around the sigil, eyes sweeping across the intricate pattern.

Oh they’re not quite what Junmyeon was picturing. Beautiful really, in a way that makes Junmyeon feel unworthy of their attention. Glinting eyes and heavy dark clothes, accentuated by gold chains and surprisingly enough, dangling earrings. They look like some handsome fellow Junmyeon would glance at in public and think about for days. 

“Your name?” The demon asks conversationally, twisting one of the rings on their clawed fingers. It looks familiar, dauntingly so. 

Junmyeon looks down to his hand, where the familial heirloom rests on his fingers. Thick and binding and apparently the same ring the demon likes to wear too. 

“Kim Junmyeon,” Junmyeon says, unable to drag his eyes away from the ring. He’s wearing the same ring as a demon. His brother’s wear the same ring as the demon does.

“Get off the floor.” 

Junmyeon does so immediately. Clambering up, a bit frantically. “My lord—“ 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should I call you?” He shouldn’t ask for their name, it would be bordering a territory he’s not supposed to even think about entering. This way it’s all ambiguous, loopholes to take advantage of. 

The demon raises an eyebrow at him, “Well that’s a first.” 

Junmyeon’s heart stills at the words, he’s messed up. And he’s going to die. 

“If you insist,” they purse their lips, not even a moment later. “You can call me Yixing.” 

Scratch that. He’s not going to die.

“You’re…” Junmyeon pauses, unable to get his words out when they look at him with those consuming eyes. Like portals, or blackholes sucking the words right from Junmyeon’s mouth. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.” Is what Junmyeon stupidly says instead. 

Standard procedure, that’s what Minseok had said. This was all supposed to be standard procedure. Draw the sigil, check. Say the summons, check. _Make the wish._

“So formal,” they sound like they’re _complaining._ Is that normal? “It’s like they breed you to be boring.” 

“If you even knew _half_ of what,” Junmyeon starts to snap, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop himself from cursing out the demon. “I have a wish.” He nearly grits out, twisting the ring on his finger.

“The least you can do is say it back to me., that’s the polite thing to do anyway.” 

Junmyeon stares at him, and it’s either his impatience or blood pressure that’s rising. 

“My name,” the demon smiles, and it’s sharp and pointy and half of Junmyeon wonders what it's like to be him and bite. The other half wants to kill him. 

The name weighs down on Junmyeon’s tongue, heavy and foreign like the ring on his finger. Cold but fiery in a way that sparks in his mouth. “I’m not stupid, I know what repeating your name would do.” Junmyeon bites back, even though he did ask for it. It would Bind them by a silent but deadly contract. “And now—” 

“You asked for it,” They point out. 

“As I was saying,” It’s taking all of Junmyeon’s willpower not to glare. “I have a wish.” 

“You all do,” the demon says, sounding bored. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Junmyeon can’t help the defensive tone that immediately catches hold of his words. “This is one and done deal.” 

“It doesn’t have to be.” They sound snarky, bordering angry. Junmyeon wants to protest, it’s not his fault they do this with one intention. 

“There are rules,” Junmyeon almost huffs, feeling confused. “And the rules are—” 

“—You get a wish.” they finish off in a bored tone. “It’s what you’ve been saying for the past ten minutes.” 

“Yes, that’s the whole...point of this.” 

“Well then, if that’s the point, why don’t you stop blabbering and tell me your wish?” They shrug.

“For my family to prosper for the next generations to come.” Junmyeon begins listlessly, narrowing his eyes for the desired effect. 

“Now now,” the demon smiles, full of sharp teeth that would prick at the smallest touch. “That’s your _Mother’s_ wish.” 

Junmyeon blanches. Standard procedure has been thrown out the window apparently. And this demon is too tricky, too knowing to be satisfied with such a mundane, selfish wish. 

“How did you—” 

“I can tell your desires.” Yixing says calmly, and for the one hot second they stare into Junmyeon it feels like they’re going to bite into his soul. “What do _you_ want.” 

“To marry well,” Junmyeon replies instantly, the words heavy on his tongue because they’re not true. To marry rich as his parents would want him too. 

“I’m asking what _you_ wish for.” Yixing clicks their tongue, annoyed. “Testing me will only be cute for so long.” 

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Junmyeon repeats, feeling a cross of scared and angry and _frustrated._ “You did it just fine for Minseok.” 

“I took _pity_ on your eldest brother,” the demon replies sharply, their eyes hardening in anger. “You think I’m unaware of what goes on in the house which calls for me?” 

“Explain,” Junmyeon demands, heart in his throat. 

“Your parents,” Yixing says, his voice retreating back into the silky smooth depths of never ending calmness. “What else is there to explain? What did you say a few minutes ago… ah yes,” he snaps his fingers, and the sound echoes throughout the room. “ _‘You don’t even know the half’_ , and I'm assuming you meant to say what you’ve been through. Well. You’d be surprised.” 

“I don’t know what—”

“No, you _do_ , know exactly what I‘m talking about. Your parents wish, and _your_ wish. You can’t expect me to believe you want more wealth.” 

“Listen,” Junmyeon starts, a low tremble in his voice. “I did what I was told to, so if you could please fulfill the wish and let me go—”

“Your parents,” Yixing interrupts Junmyeon smoothly, “And how they want all their children to recite the same wish. And if it’s not you, it’s your brother, and if it’s not him it’s the other brother.” 

“What?” Junmyeon is confused, and his hand it’s clutching his chest, and the ironed shirt is all wrinkly beneath it. 

“Do you need me to spell it out?” They snap, shaking their head. Their hair, pitch black and inky moves fluidly like shadows. _“Minseok already wished for that.”_ ,

“Brothers have had the same wish before,” Junmyeon blurts out, feeling shaky. 

_He seemed disappointed by my wish._ Minseok had said, but he didn’t fall for it. 

“Of course they have,” They say irritably, “But it won’t kill to skip out on one brother.” 

And Junmyeon might just. 

“What’ll you do?” Junmyeon asks, and now he’s feeling the familiar itch of annoyance under his skin. “Curse me? Kill me? Make me _fail_ the ritual if I don’t give you what you want?” Junmyeon gets it now. Why the demon’s annoyed, why Minseok said they were disappointed in his wish. 

“I really don’t know how you say all those so calmly,” Yixing murmurs, “When I could easily do all three.” 

It would get rather boring, hearing the same useless blabbering wish year after year, generation after generation. 

“But you won’t, will you.” Junmyeon says, his voice bordering sweet. “Because _you_ want something from _me.”_

“You’ve got it all wrong darling, this whole thing is about what you want,” they take a few steps closer, dark eyes boring holes into Junmyeon. “So let me ask you again,” they’re so close now, so close Junmyeon’s heart goes on alert, and he wants to shove them back. _“What’s your wish?”_

“I can only summon you once,” Junmyeon replies fiercely, “And I’m not going to waste it on my trivial desires.” 

This causes the demon to narrow their eyes at Junmyeon, frowning in displeasure at how Junmyeon refuses to be convinced. Even if he desperately wants to. “Your desires aren’t trivial.” 

“There are _rules,”_ Junmyeon insists, shoulders tense. “And this is a rule for the Kim’s.”

“There are rules,” they pause, and there’s a look on their face that Junmyeon can’t place. Tricky, and shifting with the shadows. “And the rules, as always, can be broken.” 

“Not in this case—”

“Why summon me once?” The demon pushes, “Nothing’s stopping you from calling me over and over and over again.” 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Junmyeon replies dumbly, blinking slowly as he tries to process. “I can...I can summon you again?” 

“Of course you can,” the demon frowns, “What use is it if you summon me once?” 

“But the, the _deal,_ , the ritual,” Junmyeon pauses, and for such a simple concept it really is making him wrack his brain. “The _tradition—”_

“Oh the _tradition,”_ the demon mocks Junmyeon, contempt dripping off their tongue. “Your family and their tradition. I know you hate it, Minseok hates it, your dear younger _brothers hate it.”_

“Stop it,” Junmyeon swallows, taking a step back. _“Stop it.”_

They just walk forwards, filling the space Junmyeon created. “So if you have the chance to change that, then why—”

“I can’t!” Junmyeon snaps, and he can feel the familiar tingling prick of heat behind his eyes. “My family, my brothers, they need _stability,_ if I—”

“Your family is sitting on mountains of wealth,” Yixing points out, “And as I was trying to say, Minseok already wished for the prosperity and the wealth, and all the rest.” 

“So, we, our family,” Junmyeon tries, but the atmosphere is thick and pressing a weight against his shoulders that burn. “We’ve already accomplished my parents' wish.” 

“Exactly,” they smile, and it’s charming now. “And luckily for you I’ve taken pity on you.”

“Impossible,” Junmyeon replies, his real wish invading every corner of his mind. 

“Maybe so,” the corners of their lips quirk up. “But either way you’ve charmed me.” 

“Unlikely.” 

“More likely than you think,” the demon shrugs. “You only get one wish. What do you wish for?” 

“For my brothers to be happy,” Junmyeon replies instantly. 

“Be more specific,” the demon whispers, eyes glowing. 

“I— you,” Junmyeon breathes out heavily. 

Yixing’s fingers trail down the sides of Junmyeon’s face. They take his time to outline every little detail along the way, before stopping to a rest at his lips. Yixing taps them thoughtfully as if they’re his own. “What do you wish from me?” 

Yixing’s fingers slide down, from Junmyeon’s lips to Junmyeon’s chin. They use two fingers to tilt Junmyeon’s head upwards. “That ridiculous little family tradition of yours doesn’t cut it.” 

“You know what,” Junmyeon repeats, a touch darker than before. 

“Oh?” A spark of curiosity flashes through Yixing’s eyes. 

“My brother's happiness,” Junmyeon’s eyes slide to the floor. 

“And that, marvellous little thing can be given by?” 

Junmyeon inhales shakily. He’s trembling, this has all gone wrong, and his head is still being tilted up so he’s forced to look the demon in the eyes, and tell him his truest desire. 

“My parents,” Junmyeon says quietly, “I wish for you to kill my parents.”

**Author's Note:**

> every time I post smth I acknowledge that it's hot garbage but it's garbage someone else will hopefully enjoy so I KNOW THIS IS A MESS but I like halloween and decided to post it anyways??
> 
> I had a whole plan for a chaptered fic and the school bonked me on the head and this is why I offer instead take it or leave but ty for reading!!!!


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